Baruch Atah Ha Ha, Um, Not So Much

Always in search of free food and drink, last night Elana and I ventured to the Jewish Enrichment Center for a birthright reunion party. Come to think of it, our love of freebies is what got us to Israel in the first place.

The party was like a Jewish singles bar, with a generous ratio for the girls. Women on jdate could save $35 a month if they just went there.

Although I’ve been exposed to Jewish men all my life, I’ve been oblivious to the fact that they all think they’re funny. I’d say that about 90 percent of them are wrong. That doesn’t stop any of them from trying or deluding themselves into thinking their appreciation of Woody Allen makes them unique. And it’s sad, really, kind of like when underprivileged kids make a career plan out of making it to the NBA. Show me a Jewish man who doesn’t think he’s funny—that would be something special.

When I was little my mom told me that my dad was funny, as if I had never met him or seen his favorite dinner trick, miming an intimate moment with a ketchup bottle onto a piece of steak. She must really love him.

PS My dad can be funny—I love him too.